


The Other Side.

by Zee_Seal



Category: Fantrolls - Fandom, Fantrolls Homestuck, Homestuck, Homestuck Fan Characters, Homestuck Fantrolls - Fandom
Genre: Also they're not a blackrom they're only assholes who won't admit they're friends, Don't read it if you're triggered by those things, Gen, There's heavy topics and implications in this, This is a BrokenBrotp, only warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25038460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee_Seal/pseuds/Zee_Seal
Summary: What happens when fate decides to drop an obviously hurt Zerleg Risham on Nataio Aurico's front steps one evening?
Relationships: Broken Mirror





	1. Rescuing a Friend.

"Who in the bloody blazes...." Nataio mumbled, irritated his quiet night had been disturbed by a knock at his door.

Who would even be calling him this close to dawn?

His inland hive was, for less of a better term, his home away from The Tower. It had started out as a place meant to store his excess paperwork, gear, and vehicles, but, over time, the small estate had been converted and cleaned up. His most beloved had once, very aptly, called it an "Office with kitchen and bedroom attached" when they visited for the first time.

He could not even argue, as that was precisely what it was. He never felt the need to make this into a secondary place of living. The only place he could call a "home" was not even his own property...  


Nataio could, and would spend days on end here, when he was setting up, pouring over paperwork, and even organizing finished case files, past and present. 

Oh yes, his most important of his gear and files were located at The Bell-tower, but it was a bit of a hassle to store everything in the middle of the ocean. Do not get him wrong, he was proud of his ancestral hive, but it left much to be desired for practicality and convenience for his job on the regular.

Dropping his paperwork on the desk that was located in the main floor of the quaint estate, he moves towards the door. Instinctively, he's moving slow, carefully, as if he was on high alert. His line of work brought a healthy dose of paranoia with it. Without a second thought, he grabs one of his many firearms as he makes his way to the front door. 

Better safe than sorry. Who knows what could happen when he opened that door.

It was unusual for any of his inner circle to call this late, let alone show up unannounced. Most of his the circle of folks he knew either were afraid of him, or merely tolerated him, for Hecate's sake. He knew he was disliked for more than one reason among the ilk Cate kept herself surrounded with.

Briefly he wonders if it is Cate at his door, as she was the only one to be out this late, or even attempt to make the trip to this hive before the sun broke over the walls of Citadel. His hive was not far from the Mid-blood district that seemed to house entertainers, influencers, musicians, and artists that she seemed to love frequenting.

Multiple scenarios flood through his mind at that exact moment.

Brushing aside the irrational worry that bubbles up, he steps up to the door, not making a single sound as he peers through the peep hole. It shocks him, however, when he realizes who's there. It wasn't Cate like he expect, and feared. It was almost relieving to know it wasn't one of his most beloved and closest.

Yet, he still felt a heavy stone in his stomach at who it was: It was Zerleg Risham.

Zerleg was standing at his door, barely illuminated by the porch light that hung above him. 

He looked disheveled, sunglasses broken, hair a mess, and there was blood dripping from his nose, smearing across his face. Either the jade had been jumped, or had gotten into a drunken brawl and had come here to escape the rising sun, the threat of day-walkers, and his pursuers should they have followed him.

It does not matter why the man was there, Nataio was unimpressed, yet none the less, he was concerned. As much as he did not want to admit it, he respected the jade enough to care about his well being. As....Reprehensible, crude, and boorish as Risham was, there was mutual respect between them. At least that is what Nataio assumed it was.

Immediately, Nataio swings open the door, to be greeted by the jade.

"Aaayyee....Tae..." His words sounded slurred, if he was inebriated.

Zerleg was, in all rights, a mess all by himself, but something bad had happened to this man, and Nataio could discern that easily enough at a glance.

He looked like he had been beaten, as upon closer inspection, his face was bruised, bloodied, and covered in with multiple dirt lined scrapes. His nose was most likely also broken, as it looked crooked. The man's good eye was slightly orange, as well, and there was a distinct wetness to his cheek and eye, indicating he had been crying, quite profusely.

"Risham. Why are you on my doorstep?" He asks, keeping his tone aloof and orderly.

"Y'know, s'was n'the neighborhood..." Zerleg says, a flippant hand gesture punctuating his words. He seemed to be swaying on his feet, as if he had been drinking heavily. His words were mumbled, and he looked damn near ready to fall over.

"I hardly-" Nataio catches himself. 

Something did not add up here. This all felt off. Risham hated him. The man would rather die than ask Nataio for aid, let alone come here out of fear for his life. So why was he here? 

Risham was acting as if he was three sheets to the wind, yet, the oddest thing was the distinct /lack/ of alcohol wafting off him. In fact, he did not even smell of his normal cigarette stench. The only thing that Nataio could pick up was the smell of sweat, and fear.

A smell he was all to familiar with, from his line of work.

Had he been drinking he would reek of the stuff, easily. Nasty habit him and Cate shared. Alcoholics, the both of them. Another reason he didn't want Risham in Cate's life was he was an enabler of her worst habits. Zerleg Risham's plethora of failures and conniving ways were enough of a reason to want him away from the easily influenced girl. 

Nataio's stomach twisted hard as he finally got a good look at Zerleg's eye. 

His pupil was dilated. The normally snake slit thin pupil of Risham nearly took up his entire iris. The man had been drugged, and Mercy above knows what else had happened to him.

"Are you well, Zerleg?" His tone shifts, no longer cold or harsh. Instead, it's the same tone he took with Cate when she was drunk. A hint of worry laces his words. As much as he despised the man standing before him, there was fates that he would never wish upon another soul. If that had happened...

Nataio would kill someone. There was crimes that were so unspeakable the the perpetrators of them needed a brutal, and merciless end to their lives.

Zerleg's eyes shift, uneasily, as he sways more. There's tension, distrust, but hope in the way he speaks. Something had happened, and Nataio was going to get to the bottom of it. Yes, Risham was a criminal, but what he did was not as...abhorrent...as what Nataio was assuming had transpired with him.

"...S'the only place...Could think t'come..." He mumbles, stepping forward, but ending up tripping on his own feet. Without thinking, Nataio catches him. He can feel the jade-blood tense under his fingers, before clinging to him. He was terrified of something, and it showed in how he was shaking, fear being evident in his good eye, and tone of voice.

"D-Don't-" Zeg's voice catches in his throat, as he finds the power to dig his fingers into Nataio's arms. 

He was shaking, his attempts at keeping calm now out the door. Whatever he was drugged with, it had been nasty, and it was still affecting him. He was barely holding onto conciousness and it showed with how he was forcing himself to keep his eyes open.

"Nothing bad will happen to you while I am here, Zerleg. I can assure you that." Nataio mumbles. There was a quiet edge to his voice, something dangerous. It's then that Zeg finally closes his eyes, and goes limp in Nataio's grip. 

With ease, he lifts the man up, bridal style, and carries him inside. Apart of Nataio's brain was already running in overdrive, but he put whatever plans he had for the criminal to the side. He had to address the drugged, beaten, and possibly assaulted jade that was now laying in his bed, unconscious due to an unknown substance.

Nataio was simmering, but he put the feeling aside. To hold onto later.

With a soft sigh, he grabs the first aid kit he kept in this hive, a bottle of water, a bottle of painkillers, and something clean for Risham to wear while he was taking his un-consented to medically induced nap in Nataio's bed. 

Pulling up a stool, he sits down, and begins his task by taking Zerleg's glasses off his face, discarding them in the trash. They were broken beyond a simple repair. Gently, he opens the man's bad eye, and winces when he sees the glass eye was cracked. Gingerly as he can, he removes the eye as well, placing it off to the side so it would not roll away.

Nataio hated the dreadful thing. It was poor quality, and did not even match his actual eye. But, it was what he could afford, he supposed. A Jade's salary was not impressive in the slightest. Hell, even Risham's salary and income was pitiful for his caste, all things considered. 

Continuing to work, Nataio's hands move quick, and without hesitation. The hands of someone who had done this far to many times. He was no doctor, for sure, but self medicating had been a needed skill to learn for his line of work. He knew his way around a medical kit and a simple cleaning up of one's self from a beating.

He sets Zerleg's nose while he's out cold, knowing full well the Jade won't feel it while unconscious. Whatever drug was in his system had put him out but good. Next, he cleans the man's face of blood, dirt, and whatever other infection causing grime. There was a few faint, and older scars on Zerleg's face. One of them even looked like they had been caused by nails.

It doesn't take Nataio long to figure it was probably the claws of Raewyn that marred him.

As soon as he is done patching up, and bandaging the man's face, he sigh. Bandages on his chin, under his eye, and across his nose. There was even a medical grade eye patch over his empty socket, to keep it dry and clean. He had even double checked to see inside of his mouth. All of his teeth seemed to be intact, but his mouth had been bleeding. Probably from his atrocious fangs catching on his lip, or grotesque pointed tongue.

Next, he strips the man of his atrocious leather jacket and thin long sleeved shirt. He takes his time, checking for broken bones, cuts, or anything that needs to be bandaged. Nataio takes pointed note of the multiple, thin scars, that cover Zerleg's wrist. They were old, and healed, but they had been deep enough to scar.

Self harm. He had seen the same kind of scars on numerous members of their friend circle.

Gently, he wraps that wrist up, covering up the scars, out of respect for his privacy. He had long since noted that Zerleg did not flaunt his wrists for this very reason. Hopefully Zerleg would not be too cross with him for stripping him down.

The man hardly ever complained about a reason to be nude any other time.

Once his shoes and pants are off, however, Nataio frowns. What in the bloody blue blazes was this man's undergarments? On one hand, he was hardly surprised, on the other, however, he was thankful this man /did/ wear underwear. A blessing, he supposed, that Zerleg wore leather pants instead of anything else. He could not stand to think of what the man might get up to if he went around commando style.

He shuddered briefly at the thought. Mercy above somehow blessed him the company of a degenerate.

However, they are removed as well. They were in the way of his methodical check up. He was confirming if his suspicions where indeed right or not. Nataio carefully presses his fingers around the man's hips, pelvis, and checks to see if there is blood, broken bones, or damage to his genitalia. As far as he could tell, no, but that did not mean there could not be damage on the inside that his untrained eyes could not detect.

Nataio was no medic, absolutely not, but he had seen, and helped, enough poor trolls who had been in these sorts of situations. Seen the damage on slaves, and the lingering affects on those who had been through this sort of thing. He was already well aware of Zerleg's history as a sex slave to one of the most insufferable, deplorable twats he had the displeasure of meeting. 

That woman would burn, one way or another. By his hand or by someone else's he was sure.

He was going to have to have Raewyn do a secondary check up. Even if Zerleg protested, he was going to inform Raewyn of what had transpired. Zeg could hate him all he wanted but Nataio was not going to keep an /assault/ on a secret from his loved ones.

There was no reason to lie. All it did was make any pains you had fester, and indicated you thought your loved ones were idiots. It did nothing to help and was a frankly insulting means of living.  
Exhaling, and bandaging off a nasty gash that had been on Zerleg's hip, he finally finishes caring for the man and his wounds. Nataio steps back, looking over the unconscious of Zerleg Risham, a pang of pity, and a twist of anger forming deep inside of his gut.

Zerleg Risham was a pathetic little creep of a man that life kept beating down. 

Yet, somehow, he kept on living, despite every part of fate saying he should lay down and die like the weak little jade he is. Yet. Here he was. Still fighting tooth and nail to survive in a world that would see him dead for his antics, and his bloodline.

Shaking off his cynical inner commentary, he grabs a spare pair of pajama bottoms and a shirt, and redresses the jade in his own clothes. Both items were not the correct size but they would do for the sake of Zerleg's (arguably non-existent) modesty. It was vaguely amusing seeing Zerleg dressed in silk pajama bottoms and a loose fitting cotton T-shirt that he himself usually wore. Especially since the jade liked to mock his fashion. 

He'd find out it was quite comfortable. Much more so than the god awful leather he toted around on his disfigured body like the try-hard, edgy bastard he was attempting to be. Quietly, he leaves a bottle of water, pain killers, and Zerleg's personal items on the nightstand next to his bed. 

His clothes, however, he was putting through the wash. They were stained with his blood, and covered in filth and grime. He had learned this very routine from Cate, who had scolded him more than once for showing up at her hive, bleeding from a job. 

If he did not extend the same courtesy to those in his care, than what kind of guardian was he?

That, and, scrubbing the leather clean would give him a more productive outlet for his simmering rage than letting it boil under the surface. He could not do anything until the sun set once more, as it was already peeking well over the walls of the Citadel. He had wasted precious time tending to the wounded jade, but it was not the end of the world.

That and he needed to be calm for when Zerleg awoke. He needed to keep that temper of his under wraps, lest the jade-blood refuse to open up to him, or give him the information he needed to bring Zeg's attacker to justice.

...That and he did not want to scare the boy further, or make him distrust him more.

Sighing, he decided on what he was going to do. He was going to wash these clothes, make himself something to eat, and then rest in the arm chair in his room. He wished to be there the moment Zerleg awoke. In case the drug muddled with one's perception of time or memory, and to calm him should he end up in a fit at awakening somewhere unknown.

He also was going to need to probe Zeg for questions, anything that he could remember, would be helpful for Nataio's endeavor. Questions, phone calls, data base searching, hunting down...It was going to be a long day in paradise, but he could not let this kind of thing go unpunished. Never. It was a deplorable act in of itself.

He would get his troll, one way or another, he would get the troll responsible for this.

Nataio swore on the Empress herself, he would.


	2. Don't Snark Your Savior.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from Chapter 1's misfortune.

He knew his eyes were open. He knew he was awake, but the pitch dark he was in was nearly suffocating.

That was the very first thing that Zerleg realized when he gained some semblance of consciousness was just how fucking dark it was. A thick, heavy pitch black that hung over him, and who's ever room he was currently in. Who kept their rooms this dark anyway?

It was so dark he almost thought he lost his other eye, but he knew it was still there. He could feel it, along with the distinct lack of weight in his other socket, indicating it had been removed. Or lost. He almost hoped it was sitting somewhere, and he could grab it and leave. 

If not, it'd give him an excuse to invest in a cybernetic eye finally, he supposed.

But as he laid there, it had dawned on him slowly. This was not his room, this was not his bed, hell, these weren't even his clothes on his body. 

Everything felt too fine, too soft, for it to be his and El's shared hive. And he knew the feeling of Rae's bed by heart, and these were not her delicate silk sheets. These also weren't his clothes or even one of his girlfriends'. 

They were silk to the touch, and far to big on him.

Orchid's place? No. It couldn't be. 

They slept in a sopor filled bed, and this was a firm mattress. Couldn't be Cate's place either, she had nightlights all over the place, and would never put him in silk, not unless it was silk bondage.

The weight in his chest was unbearable as he laid there, everything coming back to him. 

Panic was rising in his throat as he tried to remember where he was. Trying to remember what happened up until this point. Where did he end up? Who's hive was he in? All he remembered was getting his ass kicked and then...nothing. Nothing at all.

It was all black after that.

Trying to sit up, he felt a sharp pain running through his entire body, causing him to inhale sharply, and grip onto his lower stomach. There was an intense burning pain throughout his body...An all too familiar pain...

One he hadn't felt in a very long time, and it brought a rush of horrible memories back.

All at once, Zerleg's world was ripped out from under him. He choked back a sob, reaching up to put his good hand around his mouth. The tears where already welling from the corner of his eye, as the feeling overtook him. He wanted to scream, but his instincts were also telling him to be quiet...Who fucking knew where he ended up-

No, not now, he couldn't freak out now, he couldn't. He needed to keep his head on straight-

It's then he feels the sudden touch of his shoulder, and panics. The fear rising in him takes control, and he acts on instinct. Immediately, he's scrambling away, a panicked gasp leaving his throat as he scramble backwards, his back immediately meeting a wall, his leg coming up in defense to kick at whoever was near.

"Don't fuckin TOUCH ME-" His voice raises, cracking with the effort it took to raise it. Without much thought he raises his leg and kicks at the shape he can make out in the dark.

"Zerleg it is ME-" A familiar voice starts, but is stopped by a loud grunt as Zerleg's foot connects with his chest. It hardly hurt as much as it could, it was his real leg he had used. Still knocked the wind out of him, and made him back off. Man had a pretty decent kick to him, all things considering. Even in his weakened state.

"Ffffuckin-..." Zeg mumbles, exhaling, suddenly relieved he was in Nataio's hive. For all of the wrongs this fucking idiot did, he knew that Nataio would never. Ever. Be that kind of man. He's pretty sure it was relief that was washing over him as he kind of flopped back against the wall he had cornered himself against.

"D'yah ever fuckin' make yerself known 'fore yah fuckin' do anythin', Tae?"

Coughing slightly, Nataio clears his throat, and exhales. He was lucky that Zerleg instinctively used his real leg. Otherwise, several pounds of steel to his chest with the force Zerleg had used would have...hurt. A lot. He was well aware of how much a prosthetic hurt over the real thing. He had been punched in the chest more than once by Orchid.

"...I apologize, I did not mean to startle you, I was simply worried, you were hyperventilating-" Nataio starts, trying to explain himself. "I...I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

"M'fuckin' fine-" Zeg snaps, still running on an adrenaline filled awakening. 

Exhaling harshly through is nose, he reachs up, rubbing his sore face and feeling it. Taio had winced at the snappish tone, his fins twitching a bit in shame.

"...Sorry. Y'fuckin' scared me. Wakin' up in some strangers hive wit' no memory of how y'got there kinda fucks a guy up, and then there y'fuckin' are, sneakin' up on a bitch."

"...Apologies, Zerleg..." Nataio mumbles, as he reaches over and flicks on the night stand light. Might as well make it so they could both see properly, instead of relying on their vague ability to see in the dark.

"S'aight, s'aight, quit apologizin', will yah? Fuckin' makes y'sound pathetic. Ye'd fuckin' apologize for existin' if your presence offended someone enough-"

"I would not-" Nataio interupts, frowning at the bed ridden green-blood.

"Y'would fuckin' too, Nataio. No fuckin' offense but yer self hatred ain't that fuckin' subtle." 

Zerleg response, leveling his gaze at his disgruntled savior. 

The man looked slightly uncomfortable, but that wasn't anything new. He always looked constipated in Zeg's personal opinion. However, he noted how Nataio gritted his teeth, a momentary hurt expression passing over his face. 

Hit a nerve, did we?

"I am aware." Taio is blunt, and as straight laced in his admittance of this as anything else in his life. He was aware he was a dour, depressing, and admitted blight on the lives of those around him. Zerleg did not need to remind him that he did nothing good in his life.

"But if you are quite done pulling a Pyrria, as it were, and dancing around your own well being, may I change your bandages?"

"I-Eh-" For once, Zerleg was unsure, putting his arms around himself.

He normally didn't care about nudity, or being around others in the nude, but it was Nataio. A Nataio who was trying to care for him. That made him far more uncomfortable than anything else. For many, many reasons.

Nataio, however, was more uncomfortable with the fact that Zerleg was acting as if nothing happened. He would give the man time to come to his senses, and sober up as it were. He coped with humour, and keeping his pain under wraps. 

Much like...everyone else in the group.

Sigh. 

He was surrounded by a lot of broken people, wasn't he?

Not that he could speak, being quite broken himself, but, still.

"...Sure, I guess. Keep yer hands to yourself, though, bub. I know everyone wants a piece of Risham's ass."

"Hardly. I prefer my men able to look me in the eye and not be blown away by an errant harsh wind." Taio's comment is half irked, half deadpan snark, as is his usual delivery. 

He's letting Zerleg run his mouth while he gathers up the supplies he needs. Bandages, pain killers, tweezers to check if there is glass in his socket...A lovely evening. Spending time inside patching up a man who was held together by leather and dollar store tape.

"Oi! Hey now I'm fuckin' lean! I ain't STICK THIN like some trolls I can mention."

"...Touche, but you are still not my my type. Do not think so highly of yourself and your seduction tactics."

"Pssh. If I was intah dudes I could get'cher pants off you faster than Orch ever did."

With that, Taio gives him a leveled gaze, frowning. This man. He saved this man, and still, he was acting like a charlatan. An annoyance that never seemed to stop. 

"Are you quite done?"

"Dunno, y'got a hate boner yet?"

"No." 

"Damn. Was tryin' my hardest too, Cap'n."

"Will you cease your tomfoolery and take off your shirt so I may check your wounds? I do not have all night, and neither do you." 

Taio snaps at him, his patience wearing thin. He had been angry all night long, and had very little sleep, and did not appreciate Zerleg's antics. Coping because of the trauma or not. 

His tone makes Zeg wince, and kind of shrink back. He wasn't afraid of Nataio, not in the slightest, but that tone got under his skin, in a bad way.

"Yeah yeah yeah, on it, Tae...." He mumbles, pulling off the large silk t-shirt that he had been wearing. No wonder he was bathed in silk and soft clothing. It was all Nataio's stuff. 

He felt a little weirded out to be wearing Taio's clothes but. More comfortable than the leather right now, that was sure.

Pausing, he looks down at his chest, frowning at his arm and the bandaging that was on his side. The bandages on his wrist were clean, and he knew they would be, but they were there to cover up all of the long, narrow scars that creeped up that arm.

"...Thanks."

"Hm? For what?" Taio asks, as he kneels on the side of the bed, deft hands already working to get his bloodied bandages off him. Swift, and trained. Showed how many times he had done it in his life with how quickly, and nearly painlessly, he got the soiled bandages off Zerleg.

"...Nothin', s'nothin-" Zeg starts, waving his hand a bit to dismiss it.

"If you mean for your wrists, it is not a problem. That is a private matter that you do not wish to flaunt. I was simply doing what I would hope anyone would do for me." Taio responds, dropping the blooded cloth into the garbage pail by his bed.

"...Catie sure fuckin' rubbed off on yah, huh?" Zeg comments, his oddly shaped brow cocked upwards, a bemused smirk spreading across his face.

"Perhaps." Nataio gives the man a glance, a small, ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. The man of very few expressions, Nataio Aurico.

"However, that is neithr here nor there, Zerleg." With that, Nataio's working on dressing Zerleg's nasty wound again. It would scar, that was for sure. Someone had cut his side. He was lucky, any higher and he would have gotten stabbed in a kidney.

"I need you to try and remember as much as you can of last night."

"Wh- What? Fuckin' why?-" He didn't want to. He really didn't fucking want to be that vulnerable and exposed with Nataio Aurico of all fucking trolls.

"Because. Whatever information you can give me is useful, and will help me track down the monster who tried to-" 

He pauses, gritting his teeth again. He had to keep his temper. 

Exhaling through is nose, he finishes changing Zerleg's bandage, and moves away. He didn't need to check anything else but his eye socket, and that would be as simple as it came. He had done this kind of thing quite a few time in his career. 

Reeling in his turbulent temper, Taio turns back towards the man on his bed.

Nataio could not help but pity the man who was sitting there, looking at him with an incredulous stare. Hell, he was barely a man. He was a boy who was forced to grow up far to fast, in a world that was dying to chew him up and spit him back out.

He knew. He too had once been a boy who's innocence died screaming. 

Zeg hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on yet, as he was staring intently at Nataio. He was gauging the male fuchsia, good eye looking him over. As if he was searching for something, anything, to indicate that Nataio might be fucking with him somehow.

Yet. There was nothing like that.

There was the hard line set of Nataio's jaw, obviously gritting his teeth. Anger sparked in his usually docile eyes, a tinge of orange tainting the corners of his gaze. He was taking this far to seriously, in Zerleg's high and mighty opinion.

"Yer gettin' worked up fer nothin', Tae-" Zerleg starts, trying to dismiss whatever heroism that Nataio had decided upon. It was a lost cause, these fucks were probably miles away by now and whatever scant memories he could produce would /hardly/ help find them.

"...I do not stand for this kind of thing, Zerleg. Anyone who dares become a monster like this deserves nothing more than a swift death."

Though Nataio would hardly be swift. He had taken pointers from Red Riding Hood. Sure, he would kill them quickly, as he did not believe in prolonged deaths, but he would make them know true fear. 

He would hunt them as a wolf hunted it's prey.

For once, Zerleg was quite actually stunned into silence.

Irony. He was a monster himself. He had shaped himself into a monster, through and through. A monster killing monster at the end of the day. It was his only redeeming quality that he hunted down and stopped those who could be a serious threat, Zerleg supposed.

"...Aight. Where do you want me t'start?" Zerleg comments, curling his good hand into a fist. He was nicking something fierce, and needed a cigarette.

This man was willing to kill for him. Might as well fucking use the one time free service and get back at the people who almost-

He didn't want to think about it. He had been two seconds away from becoming the victim again. Zerleg inhales shakily, forcing that realization down and forcing himself to stay calm. He could feel his entire body starting to tense, preparing for a panic attack-

"Do you need a cigarette?" Nataio's voice draws his attention, and he's quickly focused on the man offering him his addiction. It was almost as if God's holy choir was singing in his head at that moment. He really could not go without nicotine in his system.

"...Would be appreciated, yeah." Zeg comments, with a hopeful look.

"Top drawer in the right night stand." Nataio waves a hand, grabbing a pen and a note book, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was going to need to take notes.

"...Y'smoke?" The con-man asks, reaching over, and pulling a silver case out, along with a matching lighter. Fancy! But it wasn't Aurico Style of fancy.

"Gods, no. Foul habit, that." A pause. "Orchid does, however. That is their case. Please be careful with it."

"Shit, nice, The Good Kush." He pauses, looking between the night stand and Nataio, a quizzical look on his face.

"Do not even ask, Risham. I will not indulge any answers." Taio cuts off any question he might have posed before it can ever leave his lips, nipping Zerleg's shenanigans in the bud.

"Awh, c'mon, yer no fun, Fishdick!"

Nataio clicks his pen, and gives Zerleg a hard look. The stern gaze, and the thin line of his lips did wonders to detour Zerleg and any intrusive or obnoxious questions he would pose at him. It paid to have a "resting murder face" as Catie had so graciously put it many times before. 

"Aight, aight, aight, I get it. Questions now, fuck around later."

"Precisely. Now. What is the last thing you remember?"

"...A greenblooded guy and his mate lookin' for a third in a hook up." Zerleg sighs, cigarette smoke being blown out of his mouth with the action. This was going to be a long night, and with his pounding head, and drugged up memories, he knew he was going to be here awhile.

"Anything after that?" Nataio asks, eyes settling on the man in his bed.

This is absolutely not how either of them had wanted to spend their Saturday night.

But something would come of it, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one part of a two part fic I've been working on writing for my friend Marcus using his characters. I hope you guys liked reading it as much as I liked writing it.


End file.
